2 The great making.

The only man practically jumped for joy, but kept his composure, both because he did not with to startle the creature, and he didn't wish to blow out his back again.

Calmly he held out the box, and activated the contract that the being just consented to. Causing the blue energy that made up its form to slowly seep into it, with a flash the runes shined gold and the box closed. With a ecstatic smile, he gently put the box into his robes before turning to his companion.

"Don't just stand there! Gather up its bones!" he exclaimed with joy, causing the guard to flinch slightly "B-but sire! We cannot pillage a corpse!" witch caused the wizard to give him another weighty knock to his shin with his cane"Its not pillaging if I'm giving it back, just do it and bring it to the tower." he cackled slightly as he prattle out of the tomb-crypt, climbing up a spiraling staircase that acted as the entrance to the place.

After climbing ten stories, he finally exited into the ruins of a fortress, stone cracked and gravled, gate rusted, the north wall long fallen in some forgotten war, and snow covering all, this degraded fort has long lost its usefulness for most.

He was far in the northern contanent, it was always cold here, but this place always seemed colder, and darker, than most, so the Wizard increased his pace, his hand waved in a few practiced motions, and his mouth uttered a few inaudible sounds. A mild sheen of red began to cover him, the snow at his feet melted and the snow that fell on him evaporated into mist.

He walked to the outside where two broom-like objects lay. He stood on the bar of this broom, and with a few more words of power, took off into the air, riding it like one would a skateboard, towards a tower that jutted out in the distance that disappeared into the very clouds. He looked out toward the land as he rode clear over the snow covered trees and iced over rivers and streams that covered the horizon east to west. Moutains that tore through the clouds and tipped with mist and white cut through the land to the north where he traveled, and a vast ocean shimmered to the south. Thus was the land of Garnus, the land of snow, ice,and warring lords.

After a hour or so of riding on this broom, he finally reached the tower. It was massive, perhaps a hundred stories high, covered in runic glyphs that glowed and sparkled with blue light. The stone seemed perpetually smooth, no sighn of wear or damage, a unnatural thing, thrumming with powerful wizardry. At the very top of this structure was a balcony, the wizard landed on this balcony, quickly unlocking the door with a complicated series of gestures and muttering,he enters.

The room was a mess, furnature placed seemingly at random stacked with piles of notes, diagrams, and magical constructs that moved on thir own. Crystals, bones, vials of various liquids, and the entire wall covered in schematics and incomprehensible writings like terrible wallpaper. At the center of it all is a circular platform that thrums with power, and here is where he places the box that the construct lies within.

The old man was a flurry of movement afterwards, gathering materials scattered around this chaotic place. Vials of some sort of purple liquid, rods of some metallic silvery material, and one massive crystal that was as clear as glass.

The wizard sat in front of all these objects Then the man began to chant, words of power and will flowing from his lips, magical power forming a blueish mist all around himself and the object. As he spoke, never stopping, he grasped the vial, and poured it onto the crystal,witch seeped into it like a sponge. The metal igot suddenly turned to liquid, and merged with the crystal, melding with it until the crystal turned into a ebony sphere about the size of a human head, dark spirals of energy eminating around it.

The magical mist swirled, twisting like a whirlpool leading into the crystal until the mist was gone, then, without hesitation, the wizard opened the box. A bright light the color of deep stormy blue appeared, frost spreading as it emerged. It slowly drifted into the crystal, and the darkness that dwelled within it shifted, morphing into a eerie shade of deep, dark, icey violet.

The final phase has begun, and the wizard grasped the orb, eyes hazing over in concentration. He touched the mind if thus budding thing, and touched its memories. Awakining basic instincts, remaking the basic fundamentals of all living beings, until, after uncounted hours of concentration , it awakens.